the wisdom of hesitation

I sit swinging between two oak trees
worried that time will not tell me its secrets
a trickle of sweat stings my eye
for once it is not a tear

where shall I venture from this place of longing?
high on a mountain top
where tomorrow is more visible ~
down to the deepest verdant valley
where the sweetness of yesterday envelops me ~
do I indulge my senses
in a languid afternoon nap
hoping for a few sweet breezes
to cool my searching desire ~
will I spend my evening in the torpor
of the dark velvet comfort of the theatre
where fictional characters ponder my questions
before they leave the depths of my emotions
showing me possible counsel for my erring soul

indecision accompanies me still
as I remain swaying in the sagging wind
my worries sizzle and evaporate briefly
with a few drops of sudden rain
washing away tears and sweat
but not sharing any calmness
for now the path is less dusty
and my footprints leave the traces
of my uncertain wisdom
and all that is visible
is the hesitation
of time refusing to invoke
the keys to its knowledge



the wisdom of hesitation
3 january, 2007
[2007.3.1...a]